Chris has the world's loudest band recording downstairs. The kids are asleep - they are used to this. Note to new parents: if you have a band recording an album at your house when your babies first arrive, they will be able to sleep through anything. The babies, I mean, not the bands. Bands are already able to sleep through anything.
So we have music seeping through the floor and sometimes it messes up our counts. What counts, you ask? Liz and I are in the livingroom knitting. It keeps the universe in balance, this show of domestic civility in the midst of rock and roll mayhem. I like the contrast between our knitting accoutrement filled livingroom above and the recording studio/man cave below. I think it's important for homes to have multiple personality disorder. Trout Towers never lets me down in this respect.
Now when I refer to the livingroom as a livingroom, I'm being a tad generous. I found space on the couch for the two of us and our knitting baskets. And then I grabbed an extra lamp. And shoved some things off a table. Our livingroom has in it every piece of furniture that has no home, plus all the trim from the diningroom. Visiting in our livingroom is a little like receiving company in one's storage unit. Add to this the fact that Lucy's carved out a corner for her own craft-related aspirations, and you have a virtual petri dish of creativity.
Do other people simultaneously live alternate lives? Are we the only ones with multiple personality surroundings? Please confess.